Don't Judge a Horse by Its Color
by T'Key'la
Summary: An Old West AU in which Danny is a detective and Steve is a fugitive from the law, but not necessarily an outlaw. Will become Steve/Danny.
1. Chapter 1

And so it was finally over. After pursing his suspect for seven long months, Detective Daniel Williams of the Pinkerton Detective Agency had apprehended his man.

Commander Steve McGarrett, formerly of the US Navy, had been Pinkerton's number one target for two years, since the day he had robbed the train from St Louis to Fort Journey. He was supposed to be guarding the payroll but instead had killed the other guard and made off with the gold.

_Pinkerton Detective Agency always gets their man._ Williams had made sure that their motto remained true by tracking McGarrett across the Nevada territory. In the end, it had been hilariously simple to grab him, with his pants down around his ankles. McGarrett was known to frequent the saloon in Green Tree and some well placed bribes ensured that when he arrived this time, Williams would be alerted.

The Detective had caught him, pants down and dick out, about to have his way with one of the saloon girls. After ensuring she was unharmed, Williams ordered McGarrett to button up, clapped him in irons, and escorted him to the sheriff's office.

The sheriff agreed to house McGarrett providing it was, as Williams promised, only overnight.

"I need to contact the home office back east. Make arrangements to transport him to our Kingsely office. Secure supplies," Williams explained.

"Fine, fine," the sheriff said. "You're guarding him overnight. I'm not risking any of my deputies."

"I'll be back right away," Williams assured him. He glanced over at the cell where McGarrett was watching them with the secretive smile he had worn since Williams captured him. "What? What is with that look, McGarrett? You won't look nearly so smug when you're facing the hangman's noose."

"Can't hang an innocent man," McGarrett drawled at him.

"Since that doesn't in any way apply to you, you still have no reason to be smiling," Williams retorted.

"Hmm…" McGarrett said before stretching out his six foot frame on the lumpy mattress, his wrists still in shackles.

"I won't be longer than an hour," Williams told the sheriff.

"Fine. Then you'll take him first thing in the morning."

"As soon as dawn breaks," Williams agreed.

The sheriff nodded, glancing warily over at the cell. But as McGarrett was simply staring up at the ceiling, the sheriff felt less concerned. "One hour."

"Yes," Williams agreed, leaving to buy the supplies they would need for the trip to Kingsley. That was the closest town where the train passed through, four days of hard riding from Green Tree. And there was no question that the riding would be hard. Williams had no desire to spend any more time with McGarrett than absolutely necessary.

Supplies purchased, telegraph dispatched, plans made, Williams returned to the sheriff's office to take watch overnight.

He sat at the sheriff's desk with one of his dime novels, chair tilted back against the wooden wall, his booted feet up on the desk. Pursuing McGarrett had occupied his waking hours but there was time between full sundown and sunup. Too much time. That was when he allowed himself to get lost in the paperbacks filled with seafaring pirates.

"What's that you're reading?" McGarrett asked him from the cell.

"None of your business," Williams said.

"Don't be like that. We're stuck with each other for the foreseeable future. You can at least tell me what you're reading," McGarrett said, an undertone of humor in his voice.

"You seem unaware of the seriousness of your position," Williams responded, not lifting his head.

"You're serious enough for the both of us," McGarrett replied. "You need to learn to relax. Who wears a tie in the Nevada Territory?"

"Someone who wishes to look professional," Williams informed him, smoothing down the blue silk vest he was wearing over the white shirt and darker blue tie. "Something you would know nothing about."

"Hmm…" McGarrett responded. "Aren't criminals supposed to be fed?"

"You should have asked the sheriff. I'm just borrowing his cell."

"Yeah," McGarrett agreed.

"Why'd you do it?" Williams asked after the silence had stretched between them. He waited, not sure he'd get an answer from the man in the cell.

"I didn't," McGarrett finally said.

"You killed your fellow sailor. Stole the payroll. Three witnesses have sworn to it," Williams told him.

"I didn't kill him," McGarrett said. "I didn't steal the gold. I've been looking for the man that did it for the past two years."

"You are the man that did it," Williams said.

"You are welcome to believe what you will," McGarrett replied. "Doesn't make your version true."

"Did you know him well? The man you gunned down in cold blood?"

"We were together in the first graduating class at the Naval Academy. We were close friends, very close. Which is more reason I would have never killed him," McGarrett responded.

"What reason would the witnesses have to lie about it?" Williams asked, leaving the chair to go over to the cell and look down at McGarrett who was still laying on the cot, staring up at the ceiling.

"My working theory is that they are accomplices," McGarrett said. "The man that killed O'Malley heads up a gang of thieves. Did the reports include descriptions of the witnesses?" He had turned his head and was watching Williams with intense eyes, eyes with a color that defied description. Those changeable eyes were surrounded by lashes thick and long as cypress branches, not that Danny cared. It was only because he was a detective and a damn fine one that he saw details with such clarity.

"Vaguely," Williams said. "I never spoke directly with them."

"Were they by any chance described as oriental?" McGarrett asked.

"One of them was," Williams acknowledged. "Why? What does that mean to you?"

"Have you ever heard of Wo Fat?" McGarrett asked.

Williams shook his head. Even if he had, he wasn't certain he would readily admit it to the prisoner.

"Hmm…" McGarrett said, returning to his contemplation of the ceiling. "You have an extra paperback by any chance?"

Williams didn't respond but went to his saddlebag, pulling out a second novel. He handed it through the bars, McGarrett accepting it with a nod of thanks.

Williams returned to his chair and to his book, alert to any sounds from the cell but McGarrett remained silent except for the occasional ruffle of turning pages. Although it hadn't been his intention to sleep at all, Williams startled himself awake, quickly checking to make sure McGarrett was still secure in his cell. He was asleep, the shadow of his beard darker than the shadows cast by the eyelashes resting on his remarkable cheekbones.

Danny nodded to himself and drifted back to sleep, knowing he would wake at the first signs of light in the sky.

~0~

"Time to be up," Williams announced the next morning. He watched McGarrett slowly open his sleepy eyes that finally focused on him. McGarrett smiled at him, Williams trying to convince himself that his smile was _not_ at all fetching. "We need to get going."

McGarrett stood, stretching his shackled hands high over his head, bending his back, his white cotton shirt riding up to reveal just a peek of warm browned belly.

"Coffee," Williams said, handing him a cup through the bars. He was wearing the same clothes as he had on the night before, a brown bowler settled over the blonder portion of his hair. "We'll have hard tack on the trail."

McGarrett accepted the coffee with a nod of thanks, sipping the hot, fresh liquid gratefully. "I need to empty out the reservoir."

Williams opened the cell door, his gun cocked and ready. He used it to motion McGarrett out of the cell and through the back door of the jail. He waited right by the outhouse as McGarrett entered, very soon leaving with a nod. Danny escorted him back inside, the sheriff there ready to begin his day.

"These are his effects," the sheriff said, putting a Navy issued saddlebag and a dark brown cowboy hat on his desk.

"Guard him," Williams said, putting his gun into his holster. He opened the saddlebag, checking its contents. He found the usual - a razor, a couple of clean shirts, a few dollars but not many, some dried berries. That was about it except for a tattered tintype of a smiling young woman. "Your wife?" When he glanced up to see McGarrett, he was watching Williams with a raised eyebrow and an amused expression.

"My sister," McGarrett said.

Williams nodded, carefully returning the picture to the saddlebags, adding the dime novel he'd loaned McGarrett, before closing and buckling the flap securely. "We're ready to leave," Williams told the sheriff to his nods.

"The sooner the better," the sheriff agreed, staring belligerently at McGarrett.

Danny nodded, clapping McGarrett's hat on his head before giving him a quick shove to get him started. Danny kept his gun trained on the taller man as he marched him to the stable. Williams paid the hand for tending the two horses overnight, securing his saddlebag onto his horse before also securing McGarrett's. Williams also tied the supplies he'd procured behind his saddle.

He led McGarrett over to the second horse, telling him to mount up. McGarrett did it with a fluidity that Williams refused to notice. And he certainly did not admire the long legs or the powerful arms.

He locked a length of chain around McGarrett's right ankle, throwing it beneath his horse before rounding it to lock the loose end to his left ankle. He also unshackled McGarrett's right hand, threaded the chain through the saddle's fork then locked it back around his wrist.

"Sure hope this horse doesn't spook," McGarrett said when he tried the chains. Of course they were sturdy enough to keep him on the horse. He hadn't doubted it.

"Should have thought of that before you stole the gold," Williams said, mounting his horse with less difficulty than McGarrett would have expected. The horse was a little shorter than the one McGarrett was sitting on but not by much. Williams strength made up for what he lacked in height. Once settled, Williams spurred his horse forward. The reins of McGarrett's horse were tied to the back of Williams' saddle.

"Didn't steal it," McGarrett said, watching the town slide by as they rode toward the edge. There weren't very many people out so early in the morning, their travel unimpeded.

"Shut up," Williams said, not bothering to look back at his prisoner.

"That's no way to be. You did ask," McGarrett responded, the hint of laughter back in his tone. "You have to talk to me eventually."

"Not if I can help it," Williams said, still looking straight ahead.

"What is your first name?"

"None of your business," Williams retorted, urging his horse to pick up speed. McGarrett's horse kept pace, Steve adjusting to the rate without much trouble. It was strange not to be holding his own reins but he didn't really mind.

"You do need me alive, right?" McGarrett asked after several miles had disappeared behind them.

"Shut up," was the only response he received. He laughed at the words, watching Williams' compact, muscular body as he rode in front.

After they had been riding for what Steve guessed from the position of the sun was just over an hour, Williams slowed. The flat plains around the town of Green Tree had given way to sparse woods, the shade welcome. It wasn't overly hot in the sun but the branches of the trees overhead offered cooling shelter.

Williams pulled up to a stop, dismounting and tying his horse to a sturdy tree. Once they were stationary, McGarrett could hear the faint rushing of water not far off. He watched as Williams unlocked his right foot then his right hand. McGarrett dismounted and waited as Williams reattached the chain around his ankle and his wrist.

"I'm not going anywhere," McGarrett told him as Williams pulled on the chains between his wrists to get him moving.

He led his prisoner further into the cool shade, pointing at a fallen log. McGarrett obediently sat, looking up at Williams. "I've spent seven months hunting down your ass. Now that I've found it, I'm not taking any chances," Williams informed him sternly.

"Now that you've found my ass, do you approve of it?" McGarrett asked, his eyes laughing up at Williams.

"Shut up," Williams responded, going to his horse for one of the bags of food. He extracted some jerky, handing it to McGarrett. "I'm going to get some fresh water. If you aren't right here when I get back, I will find you and shoot you in the face. And I'll make sure you don't die."

McGarrett just laughed, chewing the jerky. Williams shook his head in dismay, going to the stream to fill the canteens. When he returned, McGarrett hadn't moved at all, still chewing the jerky, his eyes still filled with laughter.

"Why is this so funny to you, huh? You're a wanted criminal. You're facing a hangman's noose. And you just laugh," Williams said, sitting on a separate log, close enough to see him but far enough that McGarrett couldn't attack him.

"I didn't do it. I know you don't believe me," McGarrett said with a shrug. He drank from the canteen Williams had provided him before returning it to sit upright on the ground. "But I did not kill O'Malley. I did not steal the gold."

"Why have you been on the run since it happened?" Williams demanded. "If you're innocent, which I don't believe for one minute, why not turn yourself in?"

"I was hunting for Wo Fat. He's evaded the law for too long," McGarrett said.

"How it is I've never heard of this supposed mastermind Wo Fat?" Williams asked.

"How much time have you spent in the Nevada territory?" McGarrett countered. "You're from Jersey, right?"

"Maybe," Danny said. "He must be of interest to the Pinkerton Agency."

"The train I was on was the first time he'd crossed your agency," McGarrett said. "He didn't know it was Navy gold until he saw me and O'Malley."

"Why kill O'Malley but leave you unharmed?"

"Who said I was unharmed?" Steve asked. "I have the scars to prove he tried killing us both."

"This is not in any of the reports I've read," Williams said.

"Your reports are flawed," Steve replied with a shrug. "He thought he'd killed us both. His aim wasn't as true when he fired at me."

"This is quite a fancy tale you've concocted," Williams told him.

"You go on believing that," McGarrett said. "But you'll have a different opinion when Wo Fat comes after you."

"Why would he come after me? I've never heard of him," Williams pointed out.

"He'll come after you because you have me. He wants me dead," McGarrett said matter of factly.

"Then I'll have to be especially vigilant, won't I?" Williams said, the mockery in his tone loud and clear.

"I hope so for both our sakes," McGarrett said, drinking more water.

After they had both eaten, had plenty of water, and answered nature's call, they remounted, Danny re-chained McGarrett and they returned to the trail.

The sun was slowly making its way down to the horizon when Danny next stopped the horses. He knew of a good place to make camp, not far from the river they'd have to cross the next morning. One of its tributaries ran by the campout, providing plenty of fresh water.

He looped the chain around a tree before reattaching it to McGarrett's ankle, Steve again watching with his secretive smile. "These precautions aren't necessary," Steve tried. Danny turned to face him, a familiar, stern expression on his features. "I know," Steve laughed. "Shut up."

"Got it in one," Danny said, going to his horse for supplies. He quickly and efficiently made their supper including a pot of coffee to brew over the fire. "What was your assignment before you were on guard duty?" Danny asked as he stirred the small pot suspended over the fire.

"Patrolling the western shore," Steve said, his hands curled around the mug of coffee Danny had given him. "We chased pirates. Your book must have been written by someone in the Navy. They got almost all of it right."

"Really?" Danny asked, looking over at him to see if he was mocking him. Steve looked completely sincere in his statement.

"Yeah," Steve said. "I expected it to be all made up adventures but it's not."

"I read one once about a Captain named Steven McGuire. Was that based on you? He was described as tall with dark hair and changeable eyes," Danny asked, studying him in an entirely new light.

"What was the name of the person who wrote it?"

"Newton W. W. Curtis according to the cover. I don't know if those are their real names or not," Danny said.

"I knew a Curtis Newton," Steve said. "He wasn't in the Navy but he lived in Annapolis."

"Do you have tattoos?"

"Yes," Steve said.

"Then it could have been you," Danny said, spooning out their supper into two bowls. One he handed to Steve along with half a loaf of crusty bread. Steve accepted with his chained hands and a nod of thanks.

"I guess," Steve said. "If he wrote dime novels, he never mentioned it."

"Huh," Danny said, eating his stew. "My name's Danny."

"Nice to meet you, Danny," Steve said with a laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"You won't think it's so nice when I turn you over the Federal authorities."

Steve shrugged at that, eating more of his stew. It wasn't the best he'd ever had but it was hot, filling, and plentiful. That's all that really mattered.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" Danny asked after they had remained wrapped in their own thoughts.

"I suppose," Steve said, the same underlying humor still in his tone.

"Do you normally have a moustache?"

"A moustache?" Steve repeated with a small frown. "No. I prefer to remain clean-shaven. Not that I am right now but as a rule."

"Why do you have moustache wax in your saddlebag?" Danny asked, staring down at his bowl. He was drawn to look over at Steve when he laughed. "What? What's so funny?"

"You _know_ why I have it, don't you?" Steve responded.

"No," Danny said firmly, adding a shake of his head to reinforce his words.

"Then why is your face turning red? Answer me that, Danno," Steve said.

"Shut up," Danny said, drinking from his canteen. He slanted his gaze toward Steve, hoping he wouldn't really notice. Danny's response earned him another laugh and he was forced to smile at the sound. "Really. Just shut up."

"Okay, Danno. Whatever you say."

"And what's with the ridiculous nickname? My name is Danny. Or Daniel."

"But you didn't want to tell me so I'll provide you a different name. Seems only fair," Steve said.

"You are an incredibly irritating man," Danny informed him.

"I know. You aren't the first to tell me," Steve assured him. "I'll try to be less irritating if you'll try to be less unpleasant."

"I am a very pleasant person. I have an entire list of people who would tell you how pleasant I am. I was invited to parties purely so I could socialize and impress the other guests with my pleasantness."

"Good for you," Steve said, still laughing at him. "You ever been married?"

"No. You?"

"Nope," Steve said. "Not a lot of time to find a wife in the Navy."

"I guess not," Danny agreed. "You done eating?"

"Is there any more?" Steve replied.

Danny nodded, taking Steve's bowl and refilling it. He also gave Steve the last of his bread, three or four bites he no longer had room to eat.

Once the stew was all eaten, Danny banked down the fire, keeping it going but not so huge as to be a danger. He got two bedrolls from behind Steve's saddle, giving one to Steve before settling in the second himself.

"Try not to snore too loud," Steve laughed as he tilted his hat over his eyes.

"I do not snore," Danny protested.

"I beg to differ," Steve said making Danny snort at him. "Good night, Danno."

"'Night," Danny replied, closing his eyes and falling asleep almost immediately.


	2. But You Won't

"Hey," Steve said the next morning. Danny slowly opened his eyes and rolled over to see him sitting up on his bedroll. The coffee pot was over the blazing fire, percolating in earnest.

"Oh damn. I overslept," Danny said, sitting slowly. He was stiff from the ride but knew the kinks would be worked out soon enough.

"I tried waking you with the sunrise but you just snorted and turned over," Steve informed him.

"How'd you make the coffee?" Danny asked, looking again at the pot.

"You left the saddlebag right there," Steve said, pointing at it. "There was plenty of water and I got the fire started without any trouble."

"Oh." Danny looked at where he'd left the saddlebag between their bedrolls. He was usually much more vigilant. Fortunately there wasn't anything in his bag that Steve could have used as a weapon against him while he slept. Although he supposed the fire itself could have been used to harm him if Steve were determined. And he kept the keys on a chain around his neck. Nearly impossible for anyone to take them without him knowing. "Thanks."

Steve nodded, reaching over the fire with a thick stick to lift off the pot, carefully pouring two steaming cups. "Here. You look like you need it."

"Not as young as I once was," Danny agreed, taking the cup.

"Yeah, I know the feeling," Steve said. "I already ate some jerky but there's plenty left for you."

Danny nodded, reaching into his saddlebag for it, chewing automatically. "We have to cross the Manolio River. From the sounds of it, the spring thaw has already started. I'm not going to chain you to your saddle or beneath your horse. If your horse loses his footing, you could drown."

"Appreciate it," Steve said with a nod. "Do you know how to swim?"

"Yeah. But swimming isn't going to adequate if we get swept off. Let your horse do the work," Danny cautioned.

"I've done this before," Steve reminded him. "You be careful."

Danny nodded at that, drinking more of the coffee. He definitely did _not_ study Steve over the rim as he drank it. Once he'd finished his coffee and his jerky, he tramped out the fire and gathered their things. He secured them to the saddles, finally unchaining Steve from the tree.

"You know it makes me feel like a dog, right?" Steve asked with a laugh.

"I hardly care," Danny replied, leading him over to his horse. "If you try to run, you won't get far. I have the faster horse."

"Understood," Steve said, mounting his horse and settling in his saddle. Danny mounted his, guiding both horses toward the sounds of the rushing water. It took less than half an hour to reach it, the water nearly up to the banks as it hurried by.

"Well," Danny said, studying the torrents of water.

"Is there another crossing?" Steve asked when his horse drew up beside Danny's.

"Yeah but it's 20 miles south of here. Kingsley's due north," Danny said.

"There's a train station at Buffalo Springs. It's south of here," Steve suggested.

"Yeah," Danny said, looking again at the river. "That'll add an extra day. Do you think we can cross it?"

"Maybe," Steve said. "I give us even odds."

"Even odds of crossing or…?"

"Drowning within minutes," Steve said.

"Yeah," Danny said. "I've heard there's a crossing north of here but I've never used it."

"What if we can't traverse it either?" Steve asked.

"No idea," Danny admitted. "All right. We'll go south. Better we get to the train a day later than drown today."

"A day older is always preferable," Steve agreed. "Do we have enough supplies?"

"I'll have enough to eat," Danny said as he turned the horses away from the roaring river, Steve's horse having no choice but to follow.

"Nice," Steve said with his characteristic laugh.

"The town of Seagonville is right by the crossing," Danny said. "We'll be able to sleep in real beds. Be good for the horses to have extra feed as well."

"And real food for us," Steve agreed.

"There is that. An extra day before you are hanged," Danny said.

"Okay," Steve said with a shrug. Danny glanced over at him, eyeing the chain that was strung between his ankles and lay over the saddle. By all rights, he should secure Steve to his horse but….

"Do I have your word that you won't try to escape?" Danny asked when he finally looked in Steve's eyes that were watching him in amusement.

"You have my solemn promise. As a gentleman and a sailor," Steve said.

"All right," Danny agreed, spurring the horses to a faster speed.

~0~

They reached Seagonville just as the sun was hitting the horizon. Danny followed the directions a local had given him to the stable. Once there, they dismounted, Danny took down their saddlebags, and requested that the horses be tended by the stablehand.

"I should take you to the local jail," Danny said thoughtfully, weighing the two choices before him.

"Or you could feed me then find us real beds," Steve suggested.

Danny turned to study him, knowing what he _ought_ to do. What he _wanted_ to do was more interesting but not as smart. "Your promise still holds?"

"That I won't escape?" Steve asked to Danny's nods. "Yes. I will remain your prisoner, to be treated like your dog when you deem it appropriate."

"Or necessary," Danny added, removing the chain binding his ankles and putting it across his saddle. That done, he pulled on the chain between McGarrett's wrists to get him started. Steve walked next to him as they entered the town proper. Danny stopped another local to inquire as to where they might find food and accommodations for the night. The young man pointed them to the hotel, telling them the food was cheap and the beds not infested with lice. That was all they needed to hear, crossing the wayfare to go over to it.

Danny went up to the front desk, requesting a room for the night. The clerk looked over the top of his glasses at him before turning enough to stare at Steve.

"He some sort of criminal?" the clerk asked with a frown.

"Nah. Got behind on his alimony is all," Danny lied smoothly.

"I see," the clerk said, turning back to frown at Danny. "We got one room. One bed. Third floor."

"That will be fine," Danny agreed, giving him the money he said was the required rate for one night, supper included. "There a telegraph office here?"

"There is. I'll be there 7:30 in the morning," the clerk informed him.

"7:30," Danny agreed with a nod.

"Supper's served through there," the man said, pointing across the parlor furnished with a settee and a table with several chairs. "We're a respectable establishment. Keep that in mind."

"We will," Danny agreed, directing Steve across the parlor and into the dining room. All the conversation stopped as they entered, the dozen men all staring openly at them. Danny ignored them, leading Steve over to an empty table for two, sitting down and waiting as Steve folded himself onto the chair, their hats and saddlebags stored underneath. "They friends of yours?" Danny asked, looking around the room at the men still studying them.

"I was going to ask you the same. Maybe it's because of my bracelets," Steve suggested, rattling the chain binding his wrists.

"Could be," Danny agreed, looking up at the man that stopped beside their table. He was wearing a white apron over his ample waist, an air of impatience about him.

"Gentleman. Tonight's supper is rib eye and potatoes. Beer or wine. Coffee's included."

"Sounds perfect," Danny agreed. "We'll have beer."

"Right," the man said, turning to leave the way he had come.

"Maybe I don't like beer," Steve said, drinking from the mug of water at his place.

"You were in the Army. Of course you drink beer," Danny said.

"Navy," Steve corrected.

"Army, Navy. Don't care," Danny said, waving it off.

"You would if you were in one of them," Steve told him, his eyes still sparkling with laughter.

"I feel certain you are correct. I am in neither. Ergo, I do not care."

"Ergo? Really?" Steve laughed.

"It's a perfectly good word I'll have you know," Danny retorted, accepting the bread basket with a nod. He extended it to Steve before he took two crusty rolls for himself. Danny looked again around the dining room, the other occupants dropping their eyes when he gazed at them.

"Do you suppose they think we're from a different planet?" Steve asked, following Danny's silent train of thought.

"There's no life on other planets," Danny said, eating more of his rolls.

"How do you know with any certainty?" Steve replied.

"Not like we can go to them."

"One day we will," Steve said. "It's only a matter of time."

"You've had a blow to the head. That much is clear," Danny said.

"Okay, Danno," Steve said, looking up at the waiter when he returned with their food, their plates piled high with delicious smelling offerings.

"Is there a particular reason everyone here is staring at us?" Danny asked the waiter.

"Never seen you here before," the waiter said.

"We're in a hotel. Aren't they all strangers?" Danny asked, sweeping everyone in the room.

"We have regulars. You ain't them," the waiter explained.

"I see. Is this going to be a problem?" Danny asked cautiously.

"Not a bit. They're curious is all," the waiter assured them. "We got fresh rhubarb pie for dessert."

"Thanks," Danny said before he walked away.

"What's with the expression?" Steve asked, studying Danny.

"I _hate_ rhubarb," Danny said.

"I love it," Steve said.

"Fine. You can have mine."

"Done," Steve agreed with a smile that Danny did not find the least bit charming. Not at all.

After they had finished eating, including Steve's _three_ slices of pie, which Danny reluctantly paid for, they climbed the steps to the room Danny had been rented for the night. As the clerk told them, there was one bed, big enough for them both.

"I guess it's the floor for me," Steve said, gazing longingly at the bed with its comfortable looking covers and pillows.

"We can share," Danny said, looking at the brass headboard. "But I am chaining you to the headboard."

"Won't be the first time I've slept like that," Steve said with a laugh, sitting on the edge of the bed to test it out. It was firm but giving. No matter how the mattress felt, it would be preferable to the ground. Or the floor.

"You often find yourself chained to a headboard?" Danny asked as he took off most of his clothes. He left on his drawers, looking over at Steve who was staring at him. "What? Did you expect I'd sleep in my clothes?"

"No. I…" Steve shook his head, nothing further to say. His eyes gave him away but Danny chose to ignore his expression.

"Take off your clothes if you want. Or leave them on," Danny said with a wave at his body before taking the shackles off his wrists. He threaded one end through the brass headboard, waiting as Steve shed his clothes down to his drawers. Once he was nearly naked, he extended his wrists, waiting as Danny put the shackles back on. "What do these mean?" Danny asked, touching the intricate designs that covered much of both of Steve's biceps.

"They are tribal. I had them done when I was stationed on one of the Polynesian islands," Steve said.

"Did it hurt?"

Steve raised one eyebrow at him, Danny nodding at the stupidity of his own question.

"This where Wo Fat shot you?" Danny asked, touching the ragged scar on Steve's right shoulder. He tried very hard to ignore the hard muscles of Steve's chest, the sprinkling of dark hair attractive in ways he had never before considered. He had to fight against touching the rest of Steve's chest, focusing on Steve's voice when he spoke.

"And here," Steve said, lowering the edge of his drawers to show an equally uneven scar that bisected his navel. "I nearly bled to death from the bullet to the gut."

"I can imagine," Danny said, tracing the scar. He tried very hard to ignore the trail of dark hair that disappeared beneath Steve's drawers. It took everything he had not to run his fingers down that trail to the treasures hidden under the thin layer of cotton.

He shook himself and rounded the bed on unsteady legs, slipping between the crisp sheets. "Are you sleeping?"

"I'm going to read for a spell," Steve said, reaching into his saddlebag for the book Danny had loaned him. "You?"

"Reading. Won't last long," Danny predicted, taking out his own.

"Yeah," Steve agreed, getting into bed and shifting so that he could comfortably hold the book. The chain was long enough to provide slack so he wasn't contorted while he read.

Danny tried to concentrate on the words on the page rather than warm body next to him. But he was not successful. All he could think about was Steve – Steve's chest, Steve's tattoos, Steve's eyes. All this _Steve _was going straight to his cock, hardening it in ways he found unfortunate and inconvenient. He had never before had lascivious thoughts about another man. Women, sure. Almost all the time. He knew few men who didn't. But never anyone of his one sex. What was it about this man, his prisoner, that made him unable to think of anything else? It was beyond ridiculous.

Danny glanced over at Steve who seemed absorbed in the words on the pages, his body relaxed beneath the covers. Well, there was nothing to be done, Danny finally admitted to himself. He put down his book and lowered the lamp on his side of the bed.

"Good night, Danno," Steve said when Danny had turned his back to him.

"'Night," Danny returned, closing his eyes and concentrating on willing away his arousal. What the ever-loving hell?

~0~

It was still dark out when Danny woke. He hadn't thought he'd be able to sleep but clearly he had. What had woken him? He was accustom to sleeping in unfamiliar places with new sounds coming in through the windows.

He lay still on his back as he considered his surroundings. Well. That was new, he realized when he looked down to find Steve's arm draped across him. Danny stared up through the gloom at the ceiling and tried to decide what to do. He could move Steve's arm but the truth was he didn't want to. He could try to go back to sleep but the contact was renewing the erection that had finally eased while he slept.

Steve shifted and rolled closer, his arousal evident to Danny when he bumped into Danny's hip. "Oh. Hey," Steve whispered into Danny's ear. Danny could hear the smile in his voice.

"Hey," Danny returned, looking over at him. "Comfy?"

"More than I have been in a really long time," Steve said, not removing his arm. "You?"

"This is an entirely new experience," Danny admitted.

"Are you going to protest?" Steve asked. At that, his hand began to wander lower, caressing the skin and hair before slipping beneath the top of Danny's drawers. But the chain prevented him from venturing any further down.

"Does it seem to you that I'm protesting?" Danny asked, reaching over and touching Steve's chest. "This is such a bad idea."

"Yeah, probably. I've had plenty of them before," Steve said, scooting closer to rub his chest against Danny's arm. That gave him enough slack to continue his exploration inside Danny's drawers. Steve noted that Danny did nothing to slow or stop him from getting closer to Danny's hardening cock. "If you don't want this, you need to tell me now. I want it but I don't go where I'm not welcome."

"You are wanted. Welcome," Danny said breathlessly. "I've never…."

"I have. You don't need to worry. You are going to enjoy it more than you would have ever believed possible."

"This isn't some trick to escape, is it?"

"Danno," Steve laughed. "If I was planning to escape, I'd have been long gone. You wouldn't have gotten me away from the whore in the saloon."

"Really?" Danny asked with a frown. "I had a gun trained on you."

"And if I had threatened her? Would you have shot her to get to me?" Steve asked.

"No," Danny admitted. "Why'd you give up?"

"Mostly I'm tired of running. And then I saw you. I knew I wanted to surrender to _you_."

"You are a liar," Danny huffed.

"No. None of it is lies. I have my faults but lying isn't one of them. Neither is killing my best friend," Steve told him.

"He was _more_ than your friend, wasn't he?" Danny asked quietly.

"Yes. But I'd rather tell you all about that in the morning. Kind of breaking the mood here," Steve said, reaching down to gently grasp Danny's firm erection, smiling at Danny's gasp. "I've just gotten started."

"I should tell you no," Danny said, shaking his head.

"But you won't."

"Shut up and kiss me," Danny ordered, his hand at the back of Steve's head, his fingers buried in the dark curls as Steve covered his mouth. "Oh God. I knew you'd be a good kisser."

"Yeah?" Steve said, kissing him again, tongues meeting and getting to know one another.

"Laughers always are," Danny said, looking up at him, his eyes slightly crossed. "What… are you… No, never mind."

"What do you want, Danno? I'll give you whatever you want. And only that," Steve promised, kissing him again.

"I want everything. But I never have before," Danny admitted.

"Should I apologize for that?" Steve asked, kissing his cheeks and his nose before covering his mouth once more.

"You know better. Anyone finds out and I'll be fired. For so many reasons."

"I'm not planning to tell anybody," Steve said. "And I know you aren't. Once I'm found not guilty, I'll come find you. Wherever you are."

"Will you?" Danny asked, looking up at him to see if he could see the truth.

"Or you can come to me. My father has a ranch in the Wyoming territory. I figure I'll take it over once the trial's done."

"A ranch, huh?" Danny said. "Any nosy neighbors to wonder why two bachelors are living there by themselves?"

"No one will mess with us," Steve promised. "Not much detective work that far out of civilization."

"Are you going to support me?" Danny asked. "Wait. What am I even saying? You are a criminal. You are destined for a hangman's noose."

Steve shook his head, kissing him again. "Not guilty. Not a criminal."

"With God as my witness, I want to believe you," Danny said, his breathing too fast, his face too red.

"Then believe me," Steve suggested. He gracefully got to his knees, his long legs on either side of Danny's stomach. "It's not that hard, really."

Danny shook his head, his hands grasping the edge of Steve's drawers to ease them down. "I've spent the last 7 months chasing you. If you aren't guilty, it's all for naught."

"No, it's all for this," Steve corrected, leaning down to kiss Danny breathless.

"Oh. Right," Danny agreed, pulling Steve's drawers down over his burgeoning erection. It was as beautiful a sight as he had ever seen.

"Mustache wax. My saddlebag," Steve said, tilting his head toward the side of the bed where he'd been sleeping.

"What are we going to do with it?" Danny asked with a tiny frown.

"Get it and I'll show you," Steve instructed, lifting up enough to let Danny scoot over for it. Danny reached over the edge and fished out the small tub. "Good. Scoop some out and warm in on your palms."

Danny did it, feeling it get more viscous the warmer it got. He was getting a really good idea what it was going to be used for.

"It soft?" Steve asked, Danny nodding. "Take off your drawers and spread it on you." Steve was still far enough above Danny that he was able to shimmy out of his own drawers. "I guess you should have done that first," Steve laughed softly. He moved toward the bottom of the bed to watch Danny coat his hard erection with the softened wax.

"Do you need it inside you?" Danny asked, concentrating on not coming from the touch of his own hands.

"Do you mind putting it up me?" Steve asked, licking his lips as he watched Danny touch himself.

"I'm about to be up you anyway. My fingers or my cock. Does it make a difference?" Danny pointed out.

"Hmm…" Steve agreed. He took firm hold of the headboard, moving back up so Danny could reach him. Very gently, Danny entered Steve's body with two fingers, Steve gasping.

"I'm sorry," Danny said, holding still.

"You aren't hurting me, Danno," Steve said. "Just the opposite."

Danny nodded, pushing his fingers in deeper. "God that feels good."

"Wait until it's your dick there," Steve said, looking down at him in promise. "You ready?"

"More ready than I ever thought I'd be," Danny said. "What do I need to do?"

"Mostly lay there. You'll have to guide your cock. I'll do the work. You make sure it doesn't shift away from me," Steve instructed. Danny grasped his cock half way down, holding it steady as Steve descended over him. Danny moaned at the sensation of being engulfed by Steve's hot, tight opening, the feeling unlike anything he'd ever experienced.

"Am I hurting you?" Danny managed to ask.

"No no. Let go," Steve said, lowering himself the rest of the way when Danny had removed his hand. "You okay?"

"I'm great," Danny said, reaching for Steve's cock and caressing it. "Better than great."

"Yeah?" Steve asked, looking down at him.

"Oh yeah. Are you planning to move at all? Or just squat there?" Danny asked.

"I knew you'd be a pushy bottom," Steve said before raising himself over Danny, the slick-slide, as always, phenomenal.

"You knew no such thing," Danny said, his voice strained. He tried to lay still under Steve but what Steve was doing to him made stillness impossible. He thrust his hips up when Steve rose up, thrusting again when Steve descended to rest over his groan. "Move," Danny bit out through clinched teeth.

"Pushy," Steve said, giving Danny the movement he wanted. That Danny was stroking his erection in time with his gyrations also motivated Steve to reward Danny.

"I'm going to…oh…I…it's….uhnnnn…," Danny mumbled, his mouth unable to work correctly. He could feel Steve tighten around him right before Steve came all over Danny's stomach. Danny's release was only moments behind, Steve moaning at the twin feelings.

"Oh," Steve said, collapsing on top of Danny.

"Oh is right," Danny whispered into Steve's hair. "I had no idea."

"Wait until I fuck you," Steve said, his words tickling Danny's chest.

"Hmm…" Danny acknowledged, trying to slow his heart rate and breathing. When he felt more himself, he shifted beneath Steve. "Roll off me so I can get a towel. You made a mess."

"I certainly did," Steve agreed, moving aside to watch Danny. He left the bed, not the least self-conscious that he was as naked as the day he was born. Steve very much appreciated the view. He smiled when Danny dampened one of the towels and blotted at his chest. "All that hair gets in the way."

"Can't help it," Danny said with a shrug, approaching the bed. "Spread your legs." Steve did it, watching over his shoulder as Danny tidied his ass.

"Thanks," Steve said, burrowing his head into Danny's pillow.

"Are you going to be sore when we ride tomorrow?" Danny asked, climbing back into the bed to lay pressed up against the larger body.

"Nah. Won't be the first time," Steve assured him, wiggling so more of his body was in contact with Danny's.

"Stop trying to crawl inside my skin and go to sleep," Danny said.

"You always grouchy after sex?" Steve asked with a laugh, kissing him before he could reply.

"Maybe. You got a problem with it?" Danny asked, initiating the next kiss and taking away Steve's breath.

"Nope," Steve assured him, laying his head on Danny's shoulder, his breathing making the plentiful hair on Danny's chest dance. But he couldn't mind.


End file.
